Page 32 of Ghostly
Before he could stop himself, he typed in a search. Unsurprisingly, the combination of ‘Huxley’, ‘suicide’, ‘1888’ and ‘Buttons’ didn’t return any useful results. Maybe he could ask the Schuyler Sisters; women like that always knew the local legends.
“Aw, books!” Ida glided into the living room, thankfully too distracted with her new reading material to see Gabriel jump. “Thank you.”
“Uh, no problem.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is everything okay? Someone in town causing you trouble again?”
“No, no, all is well.” He scratched the back of his head. “I was wondering what to make for lunch. Now that, you know, I’m the next Masterchef.”
“Ooh, recipes!” Ida blinked out.
His laptop hummed.
Oh, no. No, no.
“Ida,” he said at the laptop. “It’s not what you—”
Ida appeared at his side, face crestfallen.
“Think,” he lamely finished.
“They told you,” she said quietly.
“I only heard a story.”
“But you were checking it out. You wouldn’t do that if you hadn’t considered believing it.”
“I’m a lawyer. Of course I’m going to check the facts—and that comes before believing.”
“Oh, please.”
“And you wouldn’t be so upset if there weren’t a grain of truth to it.” A part of him, hungry for facts, revelations, anything concerning Ida, didn’t particularly care for the harshness of his words. “They said you jumped out the window.”
“Of course they did.” Ida gave him a bitter smile. “It was the lesser of two evils.”
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “My family matters don’t concern you. If you’re so curious, I’m sure you’ll be able to find answers on the internet or in the archives. Youarea lawyer. It’s your job.” She drifted toward the hallway.
He ran after her. “No, don’t you go disappearing into the deer-hog.”
Ida stopped at the console table. “It’s just a deer.”
“If what they say is a lie, then that lie is all they know. Only you know the real truth. And you can only tell me.”
“Why do you care?”
Hell if he knew. Everything concerning Ida was pure confusion—her very existence, his own feelings. He felt like he’d been living a strange fever dream ever since he first stepped foot into this house. “You’re my client. I need you to be honest on everything, so no surprises pop up later.” This being a less-than-typical job, it didn’t make particular sense—but it was still better than admitting his confusion.
Ida hovered her fingers above the deer-hog, then dropped her arm. “I didn’t kill myself.” She looked at the mirror above the console table. “But I did jump out of that window.”
***
1888
Ida placed the rose plant neatly into the middle of the hole and shoveled the excess soil around it. She patted the fresh dirt with a trowel, sat back on her heels to take in the three new rose bushes, planted in a straight line, then leaned forward again and started to dig up the plant.
“Ida. Ida!” A hand grabbed hers. Ida looked up into the frowning face of her brother, Harry. “You have a visitor.”
